


the cold (hands) never bothered me anyway

by spidermanhomecomeme



Series: all these things and more, darling [5]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Cold, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Idiots in Love, Nudity, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Pre-Smut Shenanigans, i'm sorry to frozen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:01:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28160586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spidermanhomecomeme/pseuds/spidermanhomecomeme
Summary: The blanket only covers just enough of him to not be too indecent, but it leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. Her eyes immediately drink in the sight of his muscled back, the way the sheet follows the curve of his ass so nicely.But then, as he shifts slightly, the sheet drifting just an inch, she gets an idea.A horrible, terrible, evil,awfulidea.
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Series: all these things and more, darling [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2055570
Comments: 24
Kudos: 63
Collections: Twelve Days of Promptmas





	the cold (hands) never bothered me anyway

**Author's Note:**

> DAY FIVE OF PROMPTMAS!! WOO
> 
> Enjoy this lil thing I wrote that I could not get out of my head!! Enjoy!

Michelle tiptoes into the apartment with a stealth that could rival any cat burglar. It’s quiet, save for the gentle hum of the heater as it clicks on. A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth as she shrugs her coat off and drapes it over the back of the couch.

Her hands are cold, stiff from the biting December wind outside. No thanks to her cheap gloves—the very same ones she’s had since high school—of course. She flexes her fingers once, then twice, trying to get some sense of feeling back, but to no avail. 

A shiver rolls up her spine, spreading goosebumps over her skin as she walks to the bedroom. And her smile only widens at the sight on her bed; her boyfriend still asleep—and still _very much_ naked—on his stomach, his face smushed into the pillow. The blanket only covers just enough of him to not be too indecent, but it leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. Her eyes immediately drink in the sight of his muscled back, the way the sheet follows the curve of his ass so nicely. 

But then, as he shifts slightly, the sheet drifting just an inch, she gets an idea. 

A horrible, terrible, evil, _awful_ idea.

As quietly as she can, she pulls off her shoes, placing them gently on the floor. She tiptoes to the bed, slowly crawling up to meet her boyfriend’s peaceful face. She lowers herself next to him, careful to keep her hands away, placing a soft, sweet kiss on his cheek. 

Peter stirs, brow furrowing in slight confusion as he grumbles something incoherent. 

She plants another featherlight kiss on his temple. 

This time, he smiles, his eyes still closed. He hums when her lips trail to his forehead, back to his cheek. 

“Mmmm hi,” he mumbles sleepily, his eyes fluttering open. 

MJ lets out a light laugh. “Hey.” 

“How was class?” He asks, voice thick with sleep, one hand reaching up to tuck a wayward curl behind her ear. 

“Good.” She leans forward, her lips finding his cheek again, trailing to the corner of his mouth before she pulls back. 

There’s a pout on his face when she opens her eyes. “You missed.”

Her grin widens as she closes the distance between them again, her lips pressing to his, deceptively chaste. He twists a little onto his side, giving them both easier access and deepening the kiss. 

But just as he starts to melt into her, just as his hand comes to rest on her cheek…

Hers sneaks down, icy fingers grabbing a handful of _his cheek._

_Payback’s certainly a bitch._

Peter yelps, letting out a comically high-pitched, involuntary giggle as he practically jumps away from her. “MJ! What—”

“My hands are cold,” she half-smirks, half-pouts. 

“God! Your hands are _freezing!”_

Her face aches from how much she’s smiling, the very act of breathing like a normal human being almost impossible from how hard she’s laughing. “That’s what you get.”

“For what?” He asks, jaw dropped, backing away to the other side of the mattress when she holds her hands out again. “What did I ever do?”

There’s a glimmer of mischief in his eyes, one that says he knows exactly _what he did_. What they’ve been doing for the past few weeks. It had started as a perfectly innocent gesture on Peter’s part, offering MJ a neck massage while she’d been stressing over her final paper for Dr. Scuderi, only for her to cower away from his frigid hands. 

It had then spiraled, MJ thinking it wasn’t fair that Peter didn’t experience the sudden surprise, tickling his sides after being outside with no gloves on. Each time they’d up the surprise factor, how cold their hands were. 

A frozen hand on the small of her back when she’d been cooking their dinner. 

An icy touch on his stomach as they’d cuddled on the couch. 

It was only a matter of time before it escalated out of control, a line had been crossed.

It’s a game they play. Albeit, a stupid one. But a game nonetheless. 

“You came in and woke me up to _‘cuddle,’”_ she huffs, complete with air quotes. “And put your cold hands on my boobs.”

MJ certainly doesn’t cut any corners, watching him expectantly with a raised brow. 

“Fair.” Peter gives a single nod, corners of his lips twitching downward into a contemplative frown. After a moment of just staring at each other challengingly, he breaks the silence, eyes big and hopeful as he holds a hand out. “Truce?”

MJ eyes him carefully for a moment, lips twisting in thought. She huffs, leaning forward and nudging his hand aside. Peter smirks, eyes closing as he leans in to seal it with a kiss, only to yelp out in surprise when MJ’s might-as-well-be-frostbitten hand shoots out to grab his inner thigh. 

“Hey! I thought we were truce-ing!” 

“We were!” MJ insists innocently, sneaking her hand down again, fingers wrapping around him, already half-hard.

Again, Peter yelps, sucking in a breath. “Hey!” He catches her gently by the wrist before intertwining their fingers together. “Your hands are _too cold,”_ he laughs as she tries to grab him with her other hand. “Here—hey!—Lemme warm them up.” 

“That’s what I was trying to do, though.”

“Not on my dick!” Peter snorts, already taking her hands and bringing them to his lips. “It’s not your handwarmer!”

Her heart flutters in her chest as he plants soft kisses on each of her knuckles, the backs of her hands, the insides of her palms. “I dunno, I’d say it’s a pretty good one.” 

Peter’s eyes flit up to hers as he fights back another laugh, folding his hands over hers in an attempt to warm them more as he pulls her to him. His lips capture hers in a heated, borderline bubbly kiss, his arms coiling around her and holding her to his chest. A shiver ripples through him when her hands smooth over his back, his breath hitching as they softly press into his skin. 

There’s a small smile on his lips as he pulls back, resting his forehead against hers. 

“Hands still cold?” She asks with a faint grin. 

He kisses her again. “Not as bad. But—” He shifts, grabbing the blanket and pulling it around them both. He leans in, his lips soft on her neck, and he smiles at the way she hums in contentment. “—Because of _you_ —” 

She can feel his grin turn wicked against her neck. 

“My dick is kinda cold.”

The sudden burst of laughter from her chest only makes Peter’s smile grow. “Oh, no,” she manages. “My bad.”

Peter’s grip on her tightens, his touch more insistent, needy even, as he pulls back to look at her with a raised brow.

“Warm it up for me?”

**Author's Note:**

> idiots the both of them
> 
> this has a potential second part but if i don't write it i didn't say anything
> 
> thanks for reading!!


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